


The WILF

by sometimesiwrite



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: I'm so sorry, M/M, Wilf - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2014-06-17
Packaged: 2018-02-04 19:37:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1790797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesiwrite/pseuds/sometimesiwrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek is a WILF.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The WILF and the Poet

**Author's Note:**

> I saw this (http://swingsetindecember.tumblr.com/post/76545193336/wilf-should-be-in-a-teen-wolf-fanfic-werewolf-id) and my hand slipped, ok? I had no control over this.

“But Scott,” Stiles whines, flopping back dramatically on his best friend’s bed, “Have you seen those eyes?”

Isaac, who is supposed to be studying with Scott for a history test, sighs loudly.

“Shut up, Isaac, no one asked you,” Stiles snaps, burying his face in Scott’s comforter.

“Yes, Stiles, I have seen those eyes. He glares at me with them sometimes,” Scott rolls his eyes.

“That’s so romantic,” Stiles snorts, and then turns over on his back, “I could write a poem about him. Probably. If I tried.”

“Please don’t,” Scott groans, but Stiles is no longer paying attention.

_“He can howl outside my window, whenever the moon is full. He reminds me of a magnet, because between us, there’s a pull.”_

Isaac shuts the History textbook and stares down at the floor, trying to keep his shoulders steady as he laughs silently.

_“I wonder if he feels it, when I’m lying in bed-”_

“Oh god, Stiles, we don’t-” Scott’s eyes are wide.

_“-and when I fall asleep, he’s the thoughts in my head.”_

Isaac howls, flopping over onto his stomach, trying to breathe.

_“I can’t breathe when he’s near me, and I wonder if he knows-”_

“He probably does. I mean, he’s a werewolf,” Scott reasons.

 _“Sometimes I leave my window open, because I like to feel a breeze,”_ Stiles continues.

“Oh dear God,” Scott shuts his eyes as tears stream down Isaac’s face.

_“I’m hoping he’ll come in, but he won’t, because he’s a tease.”_

“I’m never going to be able to look at this guy again,” Scott groans, “And that’d be great for pack relations. Can you imagine if I went up to Alpha Hale and said, ‘Hey Talia, can you leave your son at home? Why? Oh, because my best friend has inappropriate fantasies about him, and-’”

Stiles, interrupts, because apparently, he isn’t done yet, _“I would kill a lot of things, just to suck his dick, because, and let’s be real here, the boy is such a WILF.”_

Stiles leaps off the bed and makes a great show of taking a bow. Isaac claps loudly, wiping away his tears. Stiles casually ruffles Isaac’s hair and plops down next to him, on the floor.

“That was great,” Isaac grins.

“Thanks, Isaac. I worked very hard on it.”

“It shows,” Isaac nods seriously.

“What’s a WILF?” Scott’s nose is wrinkled and he looks like he’s trying to work out a difficult math problem.

“It’s a, well, you know,” Isaac shrugs.

“No, clearly, I don’t,” Scott frowns.

“Scott,” Stiles slowly, “Dude. WILF.”

“Oh!” Comprehension slowly colors Scott’s face, “WILF.”

“Precisely,” Stiles nods.

“Am I a WILF?” Scott inquires, cautiously.

“Dude, you’re _the_ WILF,” Stiles says, loyally.

“I’m the WILF,” Scott marvels. His brown eyes light up as he smiles at his best friend.

“Yes,” Isaac deadpans, “Yes, you are.”


	2. Santa and the WILF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Stiles sends Derek a present while drunk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> W_Reader: "OMG! There's got to be another part to this! I would love to read how Derek reacts to Stiles, and being thought of as a WILF."   
> I don't even know, guys. I don't even know.

“Get up, get up!” ten year old Tommy Hale jumps on his older brother.  

Derek groans and pushes the younger Hale off the bed, pulling the covers over his head and trying to go back to sleep. Grandma Hale is in town, and for some reason, everyone thought it would be a good idea for her to sleep in Derek’s room while Derek slept in the loft. Everyone seemed to have forgotten that the loft is actually freezing. Derek hasn’t exactly had a restful 8 hours.

“Oh shit. That actually hurt,” Tommy whines from the floor.

Immediately, Derek throws his covers off and grabs Tommy by the collar of his shirt.

“Watch your language,” Derek growls.Tommy shrinks, his eyes wide in fear. Derek hastily puts his brother down, trying to make amends, “Uh, is there any particular reason you woke me up at…” Derek glances at the  ancient clock on the wall, “Tommy, it’s 4:30 in the morning! Why on Earth did you think this was a good idea?”

“It’s Christmas,” Tommy says, weakly.

Derek shuts his eyes, “Are there cookies?”

“Yeah, but Laura and Cora are already downstairs, so you might want to hurry.”

Derek is downstairs before Tommy even finishes that sentence.

Cora and Laura are laughing about something when Derek gets to the kitchen, with Tommy at his heels.

“Hey, Kiddo,” Laura smirks, “Sleep well?”

Derek growls under his breath, reaching for a cookie. He’s not really a morning person.

“My, my,” Cora tuts, in a perfect impression of Grandma Hale, “Has Talia truly taught you nothing? In my day, gentlemen-”

“Cut it out,” Derek bares his teeth at Cora.

She hisses back at him, unintimidated, “Not my fault you’re a grouchy asshole!”

Derek growls, “Oh yeah? Well, at least I’m not a-”

“Derek! Cora!” Laura reprimands, “Enough!”

Cora sulks rather visibly as Derek reaches over and grabs another cookie, glaring at Cora the entire time.

“Presents!” Tommy exclaims, loudly, trying to diffuse the tension. Cora gets up, rather stiffly, and follows her younger brother into the living room.

“Come on,” Laura urges Derek, “Please.”

With a great sigh, Derek heaves himself upward and follows Laura, taking the cookie jar with him. He reaches into the jar and holds out one to Cora as he sits down next to her. She accepts the truce and smiles up at her older brother.

“Sorry,” she mouths, and Derek shakes his head with a small smile. It’s been a difficult couple of weeks for her too, and Derek hasn’t quite forgotten the way Grandma Hale humiliated her at dinner three nights ago.

Derek ruffles her hair affectionately and she leans into his shoulder as she passes out the presents from their parents.

“Ready?” Laura asks.

The Hale siblings nod solemnly, their presents in their laps.

“3...2...1… Go!” Laura announces, and the four of them rip off the wrapping paper.

“Oh, this is so cool!” Laura holds up her new designer hand-bag while Cora grins, waving around her new leather bound planner.

“Did you even tell them you lost the other one?” Derek asks.

“I didn’t lose it! Tommy-”

Laura cuts her younger sister off, “Derek? Did you get one?”

Derek grins, holding up the wolf tooth on a black woven string.

“Let me help you put it on,” Laura smiles at her younger brother, as she fastens the clasp around her neck.

“What’s that?” Tommy asks.

“It’s a tooth from one of our ancestors. We all get one right after we turn 21,” Cora explains, and Laura pulls out her own.

“You’re not supposed to know about that,” Derek frowns at Cora.

“This family sucks at keeping secrets,” Cora shrugs, “For example, I know for a fact that Aunt Mae got me Japanese swords for Christmas.”

Cora reaches over and grabs Aunt Mae’s package, revealing Japanese swords, “See?”

“You didn’t wait until I counted down,” Laura pouts.

“Sorry,” Cora shrugs, not sounding very sorry at all.

Derek laughs and passes out the remaining presents.

They’re pretty standard for the most part. Aunt Mae and Uncle Kristoff have sent them all weapons of some sort. Their cousins, Carter and Wesley, have sent Swedish chocolate. Uncle Peter and Aunt Sara have sent their annual Christmas sweaters, and Aunt Janice has gotten them all fairy dust from the Alps. Laura sprinkles a little on her hand and blows it into the air. The four of them stare at the ceiling as the gold specks rain down on them. Derek’s heart grows content as he smiles lazily at his family.

The effects of the fairy dust wear off as soon as they open Grandma Hale’s presents.

Grandma Hale, as per usual, has bought the worst gifts. Laura gets a sickly smelling perfume that makes Derek want to throw up. Tommy gets an Encyclopedia and Derek gets a pair of socks. Cora gets “Mrs. Mary’s Guide to Raising a Proper Lady.” She stares at it for a little while, no doubt remembering the horrendous dinner.

“Cora,” Derek starts, but Cora gives him a look that immediately silences him. She silently grabs the Japanese swords that Aunt Mae sent her and stabs the book with them.

Laura, Derek and Tommy don’t say a word until she’s done.

“Merry Christmas,” Cora smiles up at her siblings, but Derek is sure there are tears in her eyes.

“The lady’s a bitch, anyway,” Derek assures her, shocking Tommy.

Cora’s smile suddenly touches her eyes as she smothers her brother with a hug. Derek hugs her back, fiercely and kisses the top of her head.

“Uh, Derek?” Laura is staring at the pile of presents, “I think there’s another one for you.”

Derek blinks, and Cora pulls away slightly.

“Me?” Derek asks, and Laura throws it at him, “From who?”

Cora reads the label and snorts, “From Santa Claus.”

“What?” Derek grabs the present and sure enough, in Stiles’ handwriting, are the words, “To: Derek James Hale, From: Santa Claus.”

“How did he know my middle name?” Derek wonders out loud.

Tommy, who hasn’t believed in Santa since he was six, widens his eyes innocently, and blinks at his older brother, “Santa knows everything.”

“Open it up already!” Laura begs.

“There’s a card,” Derek is confused.

 

_Dear Derek,_

_I hope you’ve been naughty,_

_and that your jeans are really tight._

_I’ve been thinking about your body_

_very late at night._

_I bought this shirt a while back_

_and I think it was made for you_

_because it’s really tight_

_and the description is true._

_I’m a little drunk right now_

_because Santa always is_

_and I’m trying to find a cab_

_or a place to piss._

_But I hope you have a great_

_Christmas and New year’s too,_

_and Hanukkah, if you celebrate that,_

_but I’m not sure you do._

_Love,_

_Santa Clause_

 

“He spelled ‘Claus’ wrong,” Laura smirks, as the tips of Derek’s ears turn pink. He feels like there may still be some traces of that fairy dust lying around. 

Derek pulls out the shirt and stares at it.

It’s a black shirt with the word “WILF” written on it.

“Oh my god,” Cora is hysterical.

“What does WILF mean?” Tommy asks.

“Please wear that to dinner tonight,” Laura begs, “Please.”

“Forget that,” Derek shrugs out of the shirt he was sleeping in, “I’ll wear that to breakfast.”

“Grandma Hale will have a heart attack,” Cora’s eyes are wide.

“Great. Maybe I’ll get my room back,” Derek gets up and grabs his keys.

“Where are you going?” Tommy asks.

“To thank Santa,” Derek says, casually.

“With sexual favors?” Laura raises an eyebrow.

Derek doesn’t respond.

***

He pulls up at the Sheriff’s house ten minutes later and parks his car in the front. He doubles around back and stares at the window to Stiles’ room. It’s open. With a deep breath, Derek takes off running and jumps, landing on the window sill.

Stiles is sleeping on his math textbook, his pencil tucked behind his ear and feet dangling off the bed.

Derek swallows, and presses his lips near Stiles’ ear, “Wake up.”

Stiles blinks awake. He stares at Derek for thirty seconds before jumping up, and stammering, “You.. I didn’t… The shirt… I forgot… I was… I was drunk and- please don’t kill me.”

Derek rolls his eyes, “I’m not going to kill you.”

Derek crosses the room and kisses Stiles.

***

Derek comes home smelling like sex and wearing wrinkled clothes. Grandma Hale passes out when she sees him and doesn’t leave her room all day.

It’s the best Christmas the Hale family has had in a while.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This doesn't even make sense. I'm sorry.


End file.
